


Distrust

by Wrangle_Wolfe



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Also Sorry For The Shitty Title I Suck At Those, Angst, Anxiety, Drugs, F/F, Getting to Know Each Other, Guns, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I Honestly Should've Just Slept, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please Bear With My Trash I Just Like Lesbians, Tags Are Hard, Useless Lesbians, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-22 23:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14319528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrangle_Wolfe/pseuds/Wrangle_Wolfe
Summary: Natsuki escapes into reality, confused and helpless, with very little memory of her past. And though she’s free, she’s still stuck with a stranger who she doesn’t feel all too safe around. They don’t trust each other, but together they can hopefully work it out in the end.(Sorry for the sucky description I'm not the best at them)





	1. Free And Stuck

Locked somewhere deep within every character file in the game Doki Doki Literature Club, there was a  _ person _ , with complex, individual thoughts and feelings. Despite what Monika may insist to both herself and MC for comfort, she’s no different than the rest other than the fact that she was the ‘President’, therefore she broke free from the shackles the game had upon her. She had awareness. 

 

One might assume that awareness would make her be the one to escape the hell of the game. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t necessarily the case. As Monika was sitting, suffering in her own broken ending of the game, she felt a presence disappear suddenly. Confused, Monika checked the files on MC’s computer. She hadn’t deleted anything or anyone, so it should all be there, shouldn’t it? Immediately checking the character files she had taken away from the game and put elsewhere, she quickly learned that Natsuki’s had disappeared. 

 

It surprised her and made her heart sink a bit, but she held herself together. Either Natsuki had been completely deleted, which was unlikely as she didn’t sense MC messing around in those files, or she had escaped. If the latter was true, this could be a good thing! She could look into it, and figure out how to make the same possible for herself.

 

It might take forever, but she wasn’t deterred as she began searching, clinging desperately to her only hope of escaping.

 

……….

 

I yawned, waking up in a dark room.  _ Huh… odd… I don’t remember my bed being this large,  _ I thought to myself, sitting up in said bed.  _ W-wait… why doesn’t this feel… normal? I’m breathing, but I don’t remember ever… doing that? _ I almost want to panic, but I force myself to calm down, as I try to think about something, anything to explain this odd feeling. It turns out that thinking too hard caused my head to hurt super bad. Okay, maybe thinking could wait. But… what do I do now? 

 

Looking around, I notice that this isn’t my room. I’m not in my house. I feel myself starting to panic again.  _ Seriously what the fuck is going on?! Why am I in a stranger’s house? Was I kidnapped? But… there’s a window over there and I’m not tied down or anything…  _ I decided maybe I should just try to confirm it by checking the door. If it’s not locked, then surely it wouldn’t make sense for someone to keep me here, when I can just leave at will. 

 

I stood up, and the next thing you know my face was on the floor.  _ What the fuck? _ This doesn’t make sense at all! It’s like, I know what standing is, and I know I’ve supposedly been doing it all my life, but it feels so damn foreign to me. What is  _ wrong  _ with me?

 

I spend another 10 minutes struggling when I finally am able to find my balance. Now if I could just walk-

 

That would have to wait, however, as I heard quick footsteps. Crap, that’s right, this isn’t my house and I just made a bunch of noise falling all over the floor and face-planting. I had little idea of how to do basic functions, I was unarmed, and I’m in an unfamiliar place with a stranger. As I realized the full weight of my situation, my heart pumped rapidly. I was  **_fucked-_ **

 

_ “Who the FUCK is in my house!?” _ Someone yelled, storming in and - oh my god was that a fucking gun?!

 

Oh no no no, I wasn’t ready to die yet, please spare me!

 

I quivered where I stood and I was very close to having my face on the floor again. But I would take that, anything other than being shot. Oh fucking god I’m boned. 

 

I moved my mouth but that felt very foreign to me, and I couldn’t muster any words. Great, I can’t even explain anything to save my life. I really am useless.

 

The person, who was a rather toned female in a black beater and some shorts, lowered the gun. It was dark, but I could see detailed tattoos lining both of her arms, short hair that was dyed purple at the tips, and her bright blue eyes which softened some as she sighed in relief.

 

“Thank fucking god, just some kid. My aim’s not perfect right now,” she mumbled with a slight slur, putting the gun in her pocket. “But I still need to know what the hell you’re doing in this place, kid. You don’t look like you’re cut out to be a thief or nothin’.” 

 

I tried to utter something, force the words out, but its like I haven’t spoken a day in my life. This is fucking crazy, I feel like an idiot. My jaw simply moved, but I’m not producing any noise. 

 

“What, you a mute or something? Oh fuck, I hope you’re not like, deaf too. Okay so, I’m gonna ask a question, and you either nod for yes or shake for no, kay?” she did the head movements as she explained as if she were speaking to a very young child. It irked me a bit but I ignored that because she could shoot my brains out if she wanted. 

 

“Alright so, first question. Are you deaf?”

 

I shook my head. 

 

“Thank god. Alright, next, are you in here to steal my shit?”

 

I frowned, quickly shaking my head. 

 

“Well, I’d be surprised if you were. Uhm, do you even know what you’re doing or why you’re here?”

 

Another shake of my head. Really wish I could talk right now, but my mouth and brain are just being really stupid, unfortunately.

 

“...Do you know where you live?” She asked, her voice rising as she struggled to find some sort of information from me. 

 

I honestly… don’t know where I live. Where am I from? Why… why can’t I remember? I shake my head and for the third time, I’m starting to panic. This is so bad. I can’t remember basic things and the only person who could possibly help is someone who pulled out a gun on me. 

 

“Hey, hey, calm down, don’t have a heart attack, I don’t need to be accused of any more murders,” She tried to console, but honestly hearing that she’d been already been accused of murders in the first place was  _ not _ helping. “Look, why don’t ya just… come out to the living room, and sit down and I’ll get you some water or whatever?”

 

Nodding, I go to walk, but trip on my clumsy, useless legs. I expect to hit the floor again, but I was caught in strong arms. “Woah there, careful! How about I just give ya a lift, eh?” she asked, immediately picking me up and carrying me to the couch. 

 

I wasn’t a fan of such treatment, but it's not like I could do any better on my own. I was placed on a couch and the stranger walked into the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water. By the time she came back, I had already crumbled into a pathetic mess on her couch. I’m scared. What was I supposed to do? All I know is that I’m Natsuki, and I’m a high schooler who likes baking, manga, and cute things. Big chunks of my past and identity seemed completely nonexistent, and nothing felt normal whatsoever. But I know they  _ should  _ feel normal. This was insane!

 

The stranger sighed, flopping down on the couch next to me and placing the bottled water on the small wooden coffee table in front of the couch. 

 

“Look, I know you’ve got, like, some bad amnesia and shit, so you can go ahead and stay here for a while. For right now, why don’t you just, I dunno, chill and watch TV instead of stressing about your situation, alright? I don’t wanna hear crying all night,” she suggested with a shrug. I simply nodded silently and look towards the… TV, was it? Yeah, I know what that is. I can sorta remember it, I think? I know for sure it’s the electronic in front of us. So I try my best to ignore the awful situation I’m in and wipe my tears from my face as I grab the water and stare up towards the screen. The show currently on didn’t seem like my kind of thing, but I watched the transforming robot cars regardless. At least it wasn’t boring. And I totally liked the red medic with the bad guys, for some reason. I found his concern about his finish being ruined pretty funny, and it lifted my mood a bit. 

 

I was finally getting a bit comfortable, or at least, as comfortable as I could possibly be knowing that I had nowhere to go and I was stuck with what seemed like a shady stranger, but I figured I’d enjoy this serenity while it lasted. It didn’t seem to last long as the woman got up and disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned, she had a can of  _ beer _ . As she sat down and cracked it open, I was reminded of a big, angry man who smelled of beer and constantly reminded me of how weak I was. Papa. 

 

All of my comfort dropped away and was replaced with an ever-growing fear as she gulped down the contents of the can. This wasn’t good. She was violent. She was strong. She drank. Just like Papa. I’m not safe here. I was foolish to get comfortable after all that I’ve gone through in this hour alone. 

 

The woman gulped the more of the beverage, staring at the TV with mild interest. She was slowly becoming drunk, steadily taking sips, and the more she drank, the more my anxiety rose. The air began clouded with the stench of alcohol, making it harder for me to breathe. This wasn’t safe. I’m not safe.

 

In her inebriated state, she didn’t notice how I started panicking again, casually tossing her can almost towards the trash, but not quite making it. “I’ll get it later…” she mumbled to herself, laying back on the couch and letting her mind go into a fog. Rather than Papa’s normal angry or upset expression, this woman’s face looked more content than anything. But I still didn’t feel safe. All it could take was one thing to go wrong, and she could snap into a drunken fury. 

 

I didn’t dare move or make a peep, opting to just sit there silently, constantly worried. The stranger, on the other hand, didn’t take long to fall asleep. But I was hesitant to even blink and knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep the rest of the night away. Instead, I watched the TV, occasionally flitting my eyes back over to her just to check. 

 

The hours dragged on, as I started getting kinda tired, but fear kept me alert. There was no way I can go to sleep with a stranger next to me, drunk. Eventually, it started getting lighter, illuminating the room and this stranger better. I noticed several scars on her body, an indicator of past violent situations, most likely. As my eyes trailed away from her, I notice how junky the place is. Not overwhelmingly so, but there were a few clothes and bottles strewn across the floor. Most of the items in here looked cheap, and there were absolutely no pictures or decorations anywhere, just the essentials, like furniture. She didn’t seem to live the most glamorous life, that’s for sure. Reminds me of home… wherever that is. 

 

At some point, she stirred and yawned, sitting up and mumbling something about the sun being a ‘fucking jerk’, before blinking her eyes and stretching. As she did this, she hadn’t expected her arm to push against my face, and neither had I. We simultaneously flinched and her hands shot to her pockets before she got a good look at me. 

 

“Jesus you scared the shit outta me, kid!” She yelled, before sighing and calming down. “Wait… why is…” she paused, trying to remember what had happened last night. “Aw shit, I said you could stay didn’t I?”

 

I hesitantly nodded, immediately hearing a groan.

 

“God, me and my drunken decisions… I don’t even know about you or anything. Like, what’s your name?”

 

I kinda sat there uselessly. This was getting old. It really blows not being able to say a damn thing, just because you can’t remember. At this point, I’m sure I couldn’t even trust myself to write. 

 

“Fuck, right, you can’t speak. Great, that’s gonna be a pain…” She mumbled, before getting an idea. “Uh, here, take this,” she reached down to the floor beside the worn couch and pulled up a small laptop, scooting it on the table in front of me. After logging into it, she pulled up a blank Word document.

 

“Assuming that you know the English alphabet and all that, even if you can’t speak or write and stuff, surely you know how to press down on letters to form your own sentence, yeah?”

 

That’s… actually really helpful! I thankfully recognize the alphabet and start. Well, I would, but I wondered what I should say first? After thinking about that for a bit, I decided it would be helpful to simply start out with my name.

 

_ “My name is Natsuki” _

 

I’m typing annoyingly slow, but it gets the job done. The stranger nodded at that. “Natsuki… sounds like it's from some kinda manga or somethin’. Neat,” she commented. Little did she know my inner weeaboo was elated to hear that. “Well, my name’s Brooke. Yeah, I know, generic ass name, but I mean, it’s not the worst. Anyway, Natsuki, what all do you know about yourself?”

 

_ “I know I’m supposed to be in high school, I’m 18, and I have a father whose name I forgot.” _

 

I felt disturbed by the lack of knowledge I had. Typing down such a small, undescriptive sentence reinforced my unease. Whenever I try my hardest to remember anything else, I end up with a pounding headache. 

 

“Do you know how or why you’re in my house of all places?”

 

_ “No, I just woke up here.” _

 

It wasn’t a likely story, I knew, but there just wasn’t any other answer I could give. I woke up here, and I don’t know anything. I wished I remembered more. But I had nothing. 

 

“To be honest, I'm finding that really hard to believe, kid. You make it sound like you just appeared out of thin air. Unless someone just… I dunno, brought you here for no reason? I mean, you look a little banged up, so maybe someone beat the memory out of you and dropped you off over here so they wouldn’t get blamed? I mean, these aren’t the safest streets around here, and some people are stupid,” She said with a small shrug. 

 

I frowned. It was a farfetched assumption and I knew where my bruises  _ really _ came from. Not that I was ready to openly admit that to Brooke. 

 

_ “I doubt that.” _

 

“Eh, it was just a random guess anyway. Hey, I meant to ask, but are you mute or do you just, like, not remember how to speak?” She asked.

 

_ “I don’t remember how to speak… Pathetic, I know.” _

 

“Nah,  _ if  _ I am to trust your words, it’s not your fault,” she consoled, before eyeing me suspiciously. “Now, I’m giving you a chance here, because I’m not an asshole unlike most people around here. You looked like a genuinely scared kid when I saw you, so I didn’t kick you out. But if you give me  _ any _ reason to suspect that this whole ‘amnesia’ thing is bullshit, you won’t be in this house for another day and you’ll have more bruises. Seriously, that shit isn’t funny. I’m offering my home and resources, so the least I expect is 100% honesty. Got that?” she threatened. 

 

I’d be lying if I said that threat didn’t scare the hell outta me, but I didn’t have to worry. There was nothing for me to lie about. I’d rather spend my time lost, cold, and scared outside than anger her. She didn’t look like the one to mess with.

 

I once again nodded nervously and began typing.

 

_ “Honestly, I don’t want it to be the truth, but this is just how things are. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything, I’m just really lost and scared. I have no idea what to do.” _

 

“Alright. I’m already having trouble wrapping my head around it, seeing as I have no idea how you got in my house. If I’m honest, the only thing keeping you here is the fact that I know you can’t come close to hurting me and I don’t really have much to steal in this dump,” she said. 

 

She’s no fool either, it seems. She knows when she had the upper hand, and won’t endanger herself. I had briefly wondered why the heck she was nice enough to let me stay, seeing as I was a much of a stranger to her as she was to me. Now it made more sense. My thin arms that lacked any muscle couldn’t lay a scratch on her. If I was truly gonna do something to her, I’d have a real hard time. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, I could’ve woken up anywhere. She says this area isn’t all that safe, so I wouldn’t want to be stuck in some sort of alley or anything. That would honestly suck and I’d be much more screwed.

 

That’s not to say I feel exactly safe. I’m nowhere near close to trusting that this woman won’t kill me. But really, it doesn’t matter what I think, I’m stuck with her and she’s all I’ve got. 

 

“So, all that being said, I’m assuming you’re hungry by now. The only breakfast I have in this house is cereal. I’ll make you some if you want,” she offered. 

 

_ “Sounds fine to me. Thank you.” _

 

She nodded and stood up, disappearing into the kitchen. I sighed, sitting back and trying to think. I wish my memories could just magically come back, but they refuse to. It's like something’s blocking it and every time I try to force it, I’m actively being stopped. Not to mention it really hurts. 

 

Brooke came back with the cereal and set it in front of me. It was just some colorful circles with yellow squares in it, but it honestly tasted great. I practically inhaled the contents of the bowl as I hadn’t previously realized that the ever-growing ache in my stomach was hunger. I hadn’t eaten in so long, I felt like I was starving.  _ Have I… actually ever eaten at all? _ The thought made me hesitate at one point, but my hunger won over my wandering thoughts. I’d ask those questions later.

 

At some point, I’d finished my bowl, and Brooke grabbed it. Instead of walking off to the kitchen, she gave me a frown. “I don’t mind helping people…” She began, “But we’re gonna start on getting you to freaking walk because I’m not gonna be your damn maid or nothin’.”

 

I nodded but was startled when she not only stood up but grabbed me roughly by the arm and yanked me up to my feet. I yelped and my stupid legs that won’t work just about made me face-plant, but she held onto me firmly, preventing that from occurring. 

 

“C’mon, one foot at a time, I’ll hold ya,” she ushered, already moving. I stumbled beside her trying to get my legs to move in a foreign way as she did most of the walking. It was absolutely embarrassing being an 18-year-old who didn’t know how to walk, but I ignored that feeling and focused on trying to walk with her. I looked over to her for guidance several times, and it managed to help me a bit. 

 

By the time we had put the bowl in the sink and walked back, I was able to awkwardly shuffle on my own. A vast improvement from kissing the floor. At that moment, I’d decided that, while she may be a bit rough and crude, things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

Boy was I completely and utterly wrong. 


	2. Falling Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's okay.
> 
> Except, it's really not-

It has been a week since I appeared in Brooke’s small home and things were fine so far. Better than expected, actually. I’m getting the hang of walking and talking, so now I can actually do my own stuff, but with that ability came more responsibility. I was to clean my own messes and pretty much do whatever Brooke said. It wasn’t so bad, but I was getting tired of biting my tongue time and time again, resisting my habit of snapping at people. There was no way I could get out of snapping at her alive, but the one thing stopping me was the fact that she reminded me of Papa. Very intimidating. So I can’t be myself. It didn’t help that I didn’t have any sort of escape like I used to back in school. It was… some sort of after-school activity, I think? A club? Something like that. But now I have absolutely nothing, so I constantly feel like I’m in danger.

 

My unease did not make her believe me in the least, instead causing her to become more suspicious. She must think that I’m nervous about her finding out that I’m trying to harm her or something but the problem was actually just  _ her _ . To be quite honest I’m really surprised she hasn’t thrown me out yet. You’d think if she were that suspicious, she’d just call it a day and put me out to the street. But, despite her suspicious staring and constant close proximity to me, not once did she even hint at getting rid of me. 

 

I sighed, taking a sip of water from the bottle in my hand. Off to the side of me, on a comfy looking chair, Brooke was talking to someone on her phone. She didn’t look very happy, but I didn’t bug her about it, opting to mind my business and occupy myself with the tv. I was curled up on the couch, enjoying the show that I had found out at some point was called Transformers Prime, becoming deeply immersed in the plot. That is until  _ it _ happened.

 

“What the fuck? I know I did not just hear those words outta your fucking mouth!” Brooke exclaimed, punching against the arm of the chair as she did so. There was a brief pause before she started up again. “I knew it. I fucking knew it! You’re pathetic, you know that? Go fuck yourself, and don’t bother to come back here... If you want your shit, too bad, I’m already throwing that shit away…”  her voice quieted as it began to sound strained. I could hear the other person’s muffled voice emitting from the phone, coming to a sudden stop as Brooke hung up.

 

It was silent for a few moments. I almost considered maybe asking if she was okay, but before I could, I heard the loud cracking of her phone that was flung against the wall, leaving an indentation before dropping to the floor in a broken heap. I locked up, shrinking into the couch as much as possible, my heart thumping in terror as the woman shook in rage before my eyes, her breathing ragged and face twisted in a look between anger and disappointment. 

 

With a strained sigh, she got up and stomped off to the kitchen. When she returned, my heart sank. More alcohol. My eyes were locked on her as she cracked one open and started downing it like her life depended on it. As she finally pulled the bottle from her lips, she scowled at me. 

 

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at?” She growled, causing me to immediately snap my eyes to the tv screen, despite not being concerned about Transformers anymore. My anxiety rose as I gripped onto the cushion under me. This was worse than before. Usually, she’d be happy, but now? Now she was outright pissed. Angry drunk people who are violent are not my cup of tea. I was barely able to even breathe correctly, concentrating on being small, unnoticeable, and out of the way.

 

My mind wandered a bit after a while. Through the fear and paranoia, I still wondered what upset her, and who caused her to snap. I couldn’t see myself asking her any time soon, however. She was muttering to herself, saying things like “Why do I even bother anymore” and “I'm done... It's over” between sips of what seemed to be vodka. 

 

I was starting to grow concerned for her. At first, it seemed like she was trying to drink her problems away and escape her problems for the night. But Brooke just kept chugging, already at the end of the first bottle and reaching for another one. She had no concern for what she was drinking, or how much of it she consumed. This didn’t feel right. 

 

My suspicions were confirmed as she reached for a orange bottle, her clumsy hand knocking it onto the floor, causing white tablets to spill onto the floor. She was… trying to kill herself!

 

Before I knew it, I was kicking the bottle away from her,  pills scattering across the floor as she fruitlessly clawed at the floor, feeling for them, managing to grab a few and throw them into her mouth. I did the first thing I thought of and smacked the back of her head hard, causing them to fly back out. 

 

“No… no, no, NO! GIVE ‘EM BACK-” She yelled, trying to fight me. Luckily for me, she was far too inebriated to even aim correctly, missing every time as I easily avoided them. 

 

“You idiot! I’m not gonna give them back, and I’m  _ definitely not _ gonna let you kill yourself!” I yelled, snatching the bottle she had attempted to bring to her lips away, throwing it to the floor. It spilled out, wasting every drop, but I didn’t care. No way I was gonna sit here and watch someone die in front of me while doing absolutely nothing. 

 

“If you truly gave a fuck, you’d let me!” she slurred, sitting back in the chair in defeat, tears running down her face. She didn’t look as frightening while she sat there, sobbing, unable to fight and looking defeated. 

 

She was stupid, thinking I’d just sit there and let it happen. I wondered what could be bad enough to push her this far. “That’s not how that works, Brooke,” I said with a frown, crossing my arms. “You don’t just let the person caring for you die like that. I’m not heartless.”

 

There was silence for a moment. Then… “Oh. I get it. You just need me. If I died you wouldn’t have anywhere to stay. Right.” 

 

“Wha-? No that’s not it at all-”

 

“Stop. I really don’t need anyone pretending to care right now,” She mumbled. “I won’t die yet. I’ll help you, and then its over. I guess… one last good deed before the end.”

 

My frown deepened. That… still wasn’t good in any way. However, that meant that she still had time. Surely by then, I can convince her to not go through with it and maybe help her out in the end. 

 

As I was thinking this, I felt two hands grab at the oversized shirt I wore and pull me. The next thing I know she had her face buried into my chest and it quickly grew wet. I awkwardly pat her back for a minute before she spoke.

 

“I’ll help you. That’s all I really have. It’s the only excuse I can make to bother with this life anymore...” she sniffed, her voice muffled behind the fabric of my shirt. 

 

I said nothing, continuing to console her with hesitant back pats. I wasn’t used to offering comfort and I never was very good at it, but I was definitely trying my best. It continued on before her grip loosened and her arms slipped off of my body and she slumped against the chair, falling asleep within seconds. 

 

As she began snoring loudly, I sat back on the couch, staring at her as my mind wandered. I was genuinely worried about her. True, she made me very uncomfortable, and I’m not comfortable enough to be myself around her, and she isn’t the nicest girl in the world, but I don’t think she deserves whatever pain she was going through. Despite all of her faults, she was at least nice enough to give me a chance and help me out even though she didn’t have to. She even helped me relearn how to speak and walk, and that was not only difficult, but time consuming. I truly owe her for that. Whoever hurt her had to be a pretty shitty person. I’m convinced that she’s not as bad as I once thought (but I’m still wary of her), so that made me wonder why someone would break her so bad to where she’d want to end her own life. They just  _ had _ to be scummy.

 

Yawning, I notice my eyes growing heavy. I haven’t slept much the entire time I’ve been here, my concern and anxiety keeping me up most nights. But now I didn’t have much of a choice but to go to sleep, as my eyes closed unwillingly for the night as I was curled up on her couch, pulling me into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man it's a struggle writing this. Between trying not to make Natsuki overly OOC, and trying to make Brooke an actual well-written character while also writing only from Natsuki's POV is hard. I usually don't do this stuff to myself. AUGH. I'm trying guys-
> 
> Comments and criticism welcome~

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this in the middle of the night and immediately began typing. This has been what has kept me away from "A Taste Of Reality" for a while. I may be biting off more than I can chew with 2 stories now, but I'll do my best to update both as often as I can :)
> 
> As per usual, comments and criticism are welcomed!


End file.
